


floodwaters rise

by lalaland666 (orphan_account)



Series: The Rabbit and the Seraph [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Angel Crowley (Good Omens), Angst, Aziraphale is Good With Kids (Good Omens), Child Death, Crowley is Good With Kids (Good Omens), Demon Aziraphale (Good Omens), Drowning, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other, Scene: Flood in Mesopotamia 3004 BC (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:14:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25634143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/lalaland666
Summary: God has Plans for Mesopotamia. Azra won’t stand for them. Coriel does what they can.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: The Rabbit and the Seraph [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1853713
Comments: 4
Kudos: 90





	floodwaters rise

**Author's Note:**

> This is definitely the angstiest part of this series so far, but don’t worry, it’ll get worse! This does still have some fluff at the end, and a mud-fight, so take from that what you will. I hope you guys like it!!

**_Mesopotamia, 3004 BC_ **

Azra made his way carefully through the crowd surrounding old Noah’s boat, trying to see what all the commotion was about today. The man had been getting more and more agitated lately, claiming to speak directly to God and prophesying the upcoming end of the world, and while Azra hoped that Satan would be courteous enough to warn him should such a thing come up, he couldn’t help but be nervous. 

Up ahead, near the front of the crowd, leaning up against the rickety old wooden fence, Azra spotted what looked like long, curly red hair and a pure white robe. Beyond them, one of the animals broke free– a unicorn, Azra thought– and the figure shouted out, “Oi, Shem! Watch the unicorn– oh, it’s too late. It’s too late! Ah well, you’ve still got one of ‘em!” 

It was! It was Coriel! Oh, Azra had... had missed them, actually. Something warm and soft, something oddly hopeful, filled his chest. Azra hadn’t seen Coriel since that day he’d been reassigned, so soon after leaving Eden for the second time, and what few angels he had run into in between then and now hadn’t exactly been _friendly_ , but perhaps… 

“Coriel?” Azra asked, using a small miracle to part the crowd just enough to get through. “Is that you, my dear?” 

“Azra!” Coriel whipped around to look at him, their face lighting up– 

Before it fell abruptly. “You shouldn’t be here, bunny.” 

“Whyever not?” Azra asked. “Does it have to do with all this commotion here?” 

Coriel grimaced. “It… yeah, actually, it does. You should get out of here, before it really gets started.” 

“I’m afraid I’ll have no idea what to avoid if you don’t tell me,” Azra said, fully aware that this ploy was transparent and hoping it would work anyways. 

“Just go,” Coriel said. “This isn’t anything good.” 

“Will you let me judge for myself whether or not I can handle whatever nonsense has been dreamed up this time?” Azra protested. 

Coriel sighed. “God, I forgot how stubborn you are. Fine. God’s flooding this whole area, wiping out all the humans and starting fresh.” 

Azra froze. “She‘s– _what_? Surely– surely not.” 

“It’s true. Gonna be a big storm. Forty days and forty nights of rain, lots of people dead, it's gonna be a whole thing. Noah’s family’ll make it, his sons and their wives and all, and he’s bringing along two of every animal, too, so they won’t all die out.” 

Azra stared at Coriel, utterly aghast. “You– but she can’t mean to wipe out _all_ the humans. She can’t– She can’t also be angry with the Chinese, or the Native Americans, or the Australians, or–” 

“Nope,” Coriel said. “Just the locals. And apparently She’s making up something new for afterwards? Something called a rainbow.” 

“Ah. How very generous of Her,” Azra said, frowning. “And you… why are you here, then? Just to watch?” 

“I’m making sure that Noah and his family and the animals make it through okay,” Coriel said. “Not sure the old man had any actual boat-building experience before all this, so…” 

“Oh, dear. So– so you’re meant to just, just watch, while… how many are there, in this village? How far does it spread?” 

“Covering most of Mesopotamia,” Coriel said, their voice oddly quiet. “Dunno how many humans that is, exactly. But… yeah. All of them.” 

A couple of children ran past, weaving between the twin lines of marching animals, and Coriel winced. 

Azra stared at them, aghast. “You– the children, too? Is it truly _all_ of them?” 

Coriel nodded, their hands clenching around the fence, splintering the old wood. 

Overhead, the rain began, cold and hard and infinitely more powerful than that first storm a thousand years ago, the one Azra had shielded Coriel from with his wing. 

“You can’t just… just let them all die,” Azra said softly, every fibre of his being rebelling against the idea. “Coriel…” 

“I don’t have a choice,” Coriel said, their voice oddly quiet. “I’ve been expressly ordered not to intervene. I– there isn’t anything I can do.” 

“You– you can’t help?” Azra asked, a plan beginning to form. 

Coriel nodded. 

Azra sucked in a deep breath, then straightened up, shaking his rain-soaked hair out of his face. “Then I will. I-if Heaven has forbidden helping these people, then to-to do so, it would be terribly demonic of me, wouldn’t it?” 

Coriel stared at him. “Bunny, you–” 

“I– I shan’t tell you my plan,” Azra said. “If you know nothing about it, there’s nothing you can do to thwart me. So you– you stay here, all right? And I’ll–” 

“Bunny, stop,” Coriel said, catching Azra’s wrist before he could walk away. Underfoot, the sand was turning rapidly to mud, and the rain was falling harder still around them as Coriel spoke. “There’s nothing you can do. She’s given up on these people.” 

Azra thought of Adam and Eve, a sword, a Fall. “That’s never stopped me before.” 

Then he pulled his hand free of Coriel’s and hurried off. 

The first priority had to be the children. Of course, none of the adults deserved to die, but the children were innocent in whatever nonsense God had decided to punish these humans for. He would save what children he could, first, and then come back for the rest. 

Mind made up, Azra ran for this village’s orphanage. The orphans had already suffered one of the greatest losses in a child’s life, they had nowhere else to go, no one else to protect them. Azra wouldn’t let them die here, not if he could help it. 

There were twenty-three children holed up in the orphanage when Azra got there, three of them infants and only five over the age of thirteen, with the rest falling somewhere in between. All of them were staring at the quickly-flooding former-desert with no small amount of apprehension. 

“Don’t be afraid,” Azra breathed to them, infusing his words with just the slightest hint of demonic suggestion (and, oh, he always felt absolutely wretched doing that, but it was for a good– _bad_ – cause here, wasn’t it? It would be all right, just this once, to save their lives). “I want to help you. But you have to trust me.” 

“What’s happening?” one of the younger ones asked, a little girl with a bumpy, raised scar covering her left eye and tears filling her right. “Why is it raining so much? Who are you?” 

“My name is Azra,” Azra said, holding out his hand, grateful yet again for the humans and their clever leather gloves that hid the fur on his palms, and then, after a moment, unfurling his wings. The children all gasped, and Azra took a half a step closer. “This is a terrible, terrible storm, that’s going to last a very long time. It isn’t safe to stay here, in the orphanage. I can protect you, but you’ll have to trust me, just for a moment. All right?” 

“Where will we go?” asked another child, this one a little older, with unkempt hair and fear in his eyes. 

“Noah has been telling the truth,” Azra said. “But his boat is protected by God, and by an angel. If we make it there, we can be safe.” 

“How can we trust you?” asked a third child, probably one of the oldest there, though she couldn't have been more than fourteen at most. Her eyes said that she had seen far too much for her age. “How do we know you’re not mad, like old Noah?” 

“Look outside,” Azra said, gesturing to the rain, which had begun to leak into the building through the cracks in the doors and windows. “If you stay here, you will die. None of us want that, do we? Come with me. Hold on to me, and one another– we all have to touch, but I’ll need one hand free. I promise, I’ll keep you safe. You have my word.” 

There was a moment of silence.

Then one of the children, the first one to speak, reached out and grabbed Azra’s hand. The others followed suit, grabbing onto Azra’s hands or his robes or his legs or one another, forming a large mass around the demon. The oldest children held the youngest in their arms, and all of them stared up at Azra. 

“Is everyone ready?” Azra asked. He could feel the rainwater lapping at his heels, taste the stink of the children’s fear, even as they let out a chorus of agreement. He squeezed his eyes shut, drawing on his power, all of it, as much as he could hold, and then snapped. 

The water vanished, as did the scents and sounds of the village. All that was left was the rain, an odd, gentle sort of rocking sensation, and the terrified breathing of twenty-three children and one demon. 

Azra opened his eyes. They were in the belly of the Ark, hidden amongst the wooden beams, safe from the storm. 

“We’re here,” he breathed, and the children all slowly, slowly began to let go. 

“We’re on Noah’s boat?” one of the little ones asked. 

“Yes,” Azra said. “Which means we must be quiet and careful, so we don’t disturb the animals, or Noah’s family. I don’t think… technically, I don’t think we’re allowed to be here.” 

“You saved us,” the eldest girl said, staring at Azra in what seemed almost like wonder. “Why?” 

“I couldn’t let you die,” Azra said. “You… you haven’t done anything wrong. I couldn’t let you be hurt.” 

Outside, there was a loud thump and a scraping noise, like something had collided with the bottom of the boat. 

One of the children shrieked, and Azra quickly laid a gentle curse over all of them. “You shall lie here in dreamless sleep until you have reached safety, unbothered by hunger or thirst or any other human ailment. You will wake when the land rises again, or when I return for you, and not before.” 

As one, the children collapsed, all asleep, and Azra closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and miracled himself back out of the boat. 

It was getting worse. There were people running, shouting, slamming their hands against the boat. Azra darted towards them, snapping his fingers, teleporting them wherever he could, anywhere that would get them out of the range of the flood, but there were too many of them, and the water was rising and rising and the people were screaming as Azra ran– as he _swam_ , his robe heavy with water, and he began to lose focus, to lose control, he could feel his ears shifting back into their more rabbit-like form, could feel his fur bursting through and immediately growing heavy, soaked with rain, and the water was cold and the rain lashed against his face and he sank under the surface, gasped in surprise, lungs filling with the churning brown water, and he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t _breathe_ , and the world was closing in around him, and then Azra was sinking underwater again as the whole world went black. 

### 

Coriel sat on the deck of the Ark, letting the rain pound against their head and shoulders, pressing their hands to their ears in a desperate attempt to block out the sounds of humans dying all around them. 

_Why me?_ they thought desperately, shivering. _Why me, of all angels? Why am I the one who has to watch the world drown?_

“Angel Coriel. Angel Coriel!” It was Ham, one of Noah’s sons. He shook Coriel hard, dislodging the angel’s hands from where they’d been gripping their hair. 

“What?” Coriel asked, forcing themself to straighten up. The screams had begun to die down, replaced with the pounding of the rain and the sloshing of the floodwaters, which was… less of a relief than Coriel had thought it would be. 

“Angel Coriel, one of the rabbits on the boat escaped!” Ham said, pointing towards one side of the Ark. 

Coriel frowned. “R-rabbit? What–?” 

Then they realised. “Shit. Shit, bugger, shit, _shit_!” They leapt up, sprinting over to the side of the boat. There, floating in the water, not far from the Ark, was a pure-white rabbit. 

“Shit!” Coriel hissed again, their wings springing from their back as they leapt from the Ark and dove into the water. It was definitely him, Coriel could feel the demonic energy surrounding Azra’s body. Surrounding Azra. 

“Come on, you stubborn bastard,” Coriel said, scooping Azra up in his arms and lifting desperately. The rain had soaked their feathers and their robe and completely saturated Azra’s fur, making everything heavy and wet and so much more difficult, but they had built stars before. They could handle difficult. 

With a shout of effort, Coriel launched himself upright, landing with a thud on the deck of the Ark, Azra cradled in his arms. He wasn’t moving. 

“Angel Coriel, is it alright?” Ham asked. 

“Go get belowdeck,” Coriel said. “You’ll get sick out here, and that’s the last thing anyone needs. I’ll take care of him.” 

Ham nodded and hurried off, and Coriel snapped himself and Azra into the lowest level of the ship. 

“C’mon, bunny,” he breathed, lying Azra down and snapping again to vanish the water in his lungs and his fur, to warm him up. He could feel the demon’s energy, still thrumming in his corporation, quiet as it was, but Azra still wasn’t bloody moving. “C’mon, don’t give up on me. You’re okay. Wake up, bunny. Wake up.” 

Azra gasped, his pinkish-red eyes flying open and his ears twitching wildly. 

“Hah!” Coriel said, beaming. “Hey, bunny. You’re okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you, yeah? You’re safe. Deep breaths, now.” 

Azra shook his head, rolled onto his feet, and then shifted, transforming back into his human form. His wings were still out, dark and sodden, and his robe was soaked through and clinging to him. 

“Cor– Coriel,” he coughed. “What– why are you–?” 

“I’ve got you,” Coriel promised, reaching out to steady Azra as he nearly toppled back over with the force of his coughs. “You’re okay now, yeah?” 

“You can’t– you can’t see me,” Azra gasped. “Why did you save me?” 

“I’ve got to protect all the creatures on the Ark,” Coriel said. “You’re on the Ark now, aren’t you?” 

Azra stared up at him, his eyes wide and stunned. “You– what?” 

“I wasn’t gonna let you discorporate, bunny,” Coriel said gently. “C’mon, let’s get you warmed up, yeah? I dunno if demons can get sick, and I don’t want to–” 

There was a sound, then, from– from beneath Coriel. A baby, crying. 

“What is that?” Coriel asked, frowning and looking around. “None of Noah’s kids have babies.” 

Azra went bright red, very suddenly. “Ah. I, ah. I think it– that may be my fault…” 

“Your fault? You mean–” Coriel looked down, at the floorboards beneath their feet, focusing their power. There was life down there, a big mass of life, enough that Coriel couldn’t discern the individuals there. “Fuck. How many people did you bring on the Ark?” 

“Twenty-three,” Azra said. “All the children in–” 

“In the orphanage,” Coriel finished, staring at Azra. “Holy shit. Bunny… how many people did you save?” 

“Not enough,” Azra said, pulling his knees into his chest and wrapping his arms around them. “Not enough. I– I tried to– but I ran out of power, I think, and then I couldn’t– and there were still so many of them, Coriel, and then the water– I couldn’t–” 

“Hey,” Coriel said, lurching forwards to wrap his arms around the shivering demon, miracling his robe and wings dry as he did so. “Hey, hey, hey. You did as much as you could. You were incredible, Azra. You saved _so many_ people, people who would have drowned without you… you saved twenty-three kids!” 

“I haven’t saved them yet,” Azra murmured, burying his face in Coriel’s neck, hugging the angel back. 

Azra’s body was so very warm, and his hair was so soft, and Coriel couldn’t help but marvel at the being in his arms. 

“You will,” Coriel said. “ _We_ will. They’re on the Ark now, so I can help them, too. They’ll be okay. You did amazing, bunny. You did incredible. You were brilliant. Deep breaths for me, okay?” 

“I wish I’d done more,” Azra murmured, his body slowly going heavy. “I could have… I could have…” 

“You did your best,” Coriel said. “You were brilliant. Thank you, Azra. _Thank you_. You’ve gotta sleep now, okay? I’ll bring the kids some food, but for now, you need to sleep, okay? Sleep. I’ve got you. Sleep.” 

Azra murmured softly, his eyes drifting closed, and then he was out, still leaning against Coriel, still so warm and soft and gentle. 

Coriel carefully lowered him to the ground, trying their best not to jostle him, and then stared for a long moment. 

_You’re incredible,_ he thought. _I haven’t seen you for a thousand years, you’ve spent that whole time stuck between Hell and Earth, and still– still, you’re the angel who gave away your sword to Adam and Eve to keep them safe. You’re still kind. You haven’t lost that yet._

They let themself indulge for a moment longer, brushing Azra’s cloud-soft curls off of his forehead, before taking a deep breath and miracling themself down one more level to meet these new kids. 

### 

Azra had lived for more than a thousand years, but that forty days, spent on that tiny, rocking boat stuffed to bursting with animals and humans as the rest of humanity drowned around them, was perhaps the longest of Azra’s life up to that point. 

Finally, though, finally, the floodwaters began to recede, and Azra gathered up the children once more and teleported them off the boat and onto a patch of dry(ing) land not far from where their village used to be. 

_Not far, Azra still didn’t have the strength to take them too far, but far enough, far enough that there wouldn’t be any debris, far enough that there wouldn’t be any bodies–_

“What do we do now, Azra?” Amata, the eldest girl, asked, jerking Azra out of his reverie. 

“We… we rebuild,” Azra said. “We keep going. I– I can’t teleport right now, not until I’ve regained some of my power, but I can help you build a new home for yourselves.” 

“Are you gonna stay?” asked Bashaa, one of the littler ones, his eyes wide and hopeful. 

Azra stared at the children, slightly stunned. “I– I am a demon. Do you… do you _want_ me to stay?” 

“Yes!” shouted three of the children at once. 

Azra blinked. “I… then, yes. I’ll stay with you, if you want me here.” Then he cleared his throat and straightened up. “All right. I know one or two of you liked to play near the brickyards– do any of you know how to make mud bricks?” 

The two oldest boys, Enushu and Rihat, raised their hands. 

“Excellent!” Azra said, beaming at them. “Could you two take a few others and teach them? We’ll want to build something to reside in for the night. I can build a fire for you to fire them in. Whose turn is it to watch Dudu, Awria, and Zakiti? Good, do you mind taking them to free up a few more hands? We’ll all have to work together for a little longer if we’re to make this work.” 

There was a soft chiming sounds from behind Azra, accompanied by a wave of power. He froze, panic spiking in his chest (someone found them, the children were in danger, Heaven had come to finish the job–!) until Bashaa shouted “Cowiel!” and leapt towards the source of the noise. 

Azra turned to see Coriel, hugging Bashaa back and grinning over at Azra. 

“Hello, my dear,” the demon said, taking a few steps closer as Bashaa let Coriel go and hurried back over to where the other children had begun divvying jobs up further amongst themselves. “What brings you out this way?” 

“Figured I’d check in on you lot. Noah and his kids are doing okay, and you’ve got a few more things working against you here.” 

“You don’t have to,” Azra said. “Check in on us, I mean. We’ll be all right.” 

“We, huh?” Coriel asked, their grin widening. “You’re sticking with them?” 

“Until they no longer need me,” Azra said. “It– I’m raising an entire group of children in terrible, devil-worshipping ways. It’s dreadfully evil of me, you see.” 

“Well, guess I’ll have to keep checking in, then,” Coriel said. “Make sure these poor tykes get a smidgen of angelic influence to balance out the demonic. Just basic logic, innit?” They sighed. “I can’t stay here full-time, I’m still technically watching over Noah, at least until he gets himself established, but… I’ll come by as often as I can.” 

Azra felt something in him soften, and he beamed up at Coriel, reaching out to take their hand. “Thank you, my dear. It– I– _thank you_.” 

Coriel smiled once more, squeezed Azra’s hand, and then strode over to where the children had devolved from brick-making to mud-throwing to join in the mess. 

Azra watched them go, feeling that soft thing inside him expanding yet again. It had been growing stronger and stronger for the past forty days and forty nights, and now it was to the point where Azra couldn’t ignore it any longer. Not that he knew what it was– just that he could look at Coriel for years, _centuries_ , and never get bored. That Coriel was... was special, somehow, was _important_ , in a way that Azra couldn’t quite articulate but was no less certain of for it. That– that, so long as Coriel was nearby, anything was possible. 

Azra sighed, watching as more and more of the little ones joined in the mud fight, running around and shrieking with laughter in a way they hadn’t been able to for more than a month. 

_Let them play_ , he thought, stifling a giggle as a chunk of mud hit Coriel square in the back, knocking them onto their face. _Let them be young for a few days. The poor dears have more than earned it. I’ll let them be. I can…_ He raised his hand to snap, to conjure up some sort of shelter and food for the night. 

Then, abruptly, a hand wrapped around his, cutting him off. 

“Bunny!” Coriel protested. There was mud in their hair, and their typically-pristine robe was coated in it, but somehow, Azra thought that they looked lovelier than ever, even with that worried frown creasing their brow. “You just teleported twenty-three kids more than a mile, I guarantee you’re too burned out to do whatever miracle you’re planning right now. What do you need?” 

Azra stared at him. “I-I… oh. I was… was going to make some shelter, and food, so that– so they don’t have to. So they have time to be children. They’ve had precious little opportunity for that, thus far.” 

Coriel’s face softened, their mouth falling open. “Bloody… all right. I’ll do it, yeah?” 

“Oh, but you have to save your miracles for Noah–” Azra protested, but Coriel ignored him, pulling one of their mud-coated hands away from Azra’s to snap. A decently-large but fairly rough mud hut sprung up a few steps away, and Coriel squeezed Azra’s hand gently. 

“There’s food in there,” they said. “You can–” 

Then they looked down at their joined hands and jerked back. “Shit! I got mud in your fur. Shit. I’m sorry, bunny.” 

“Oh, it’s quite all right, my dear,” Azra said, banishing the mud with a thought and beaming up at Coriel. “I’ll just need to find new gloves as soon as I can, I rather lost my other ones. Thank you, again, ever so much. I– I really do appreciate it, all of it.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Coriel said, grinning back. “M’always happy to help you.” Then they turned and ran off, diving back into the mud-fight with a shout before being immediately piled upon by the children. 

Azra looked on, that warm, soft feeling in his chest expanding ever further, until he thought that his whole body might lift off the ground with it. It was… it was wonderful. This was wonderful. They were wonderful, and, faintly, Azra wondered what on Earth they had been doing for the past thousand years here without them. 

_Well_ , Azra thought, laughing as Coriel managed to sweep Amata’s legs out from under her, only to be dog-piled upon by half a dozen younger children seeking mud-coated revenge. _I’ve got some time with them, yet. Until… until the children are old enough to stand on their own, until we have to leave for their sakes… I have some time, still._

He took a deep breath, then stepped forwards, scooped up a handful of mud, and lobbed it at Rihat, who shrieked in mock-outrage and leapt at Azra, accompanied by four others. 

_I have to make the most of it._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and thank you to every single one of you who’s left kudos or commented, you all make my day whenever I see it!!


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